


To Touch or Not to Touch

by Not_a_Real_Writer



Category: Captain America
Genre: Bucky Hurts, Comfort, Fluff, I ain't proud of the ending but it's better than nothin, I'm tired, Liberal use of Italics, M/M, Oh look, Panic Attack, and a hecka cheesy ending, another reasons to hope prequel, both are working on communication, hug, im just trying out my angst, still tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:38:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10183079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_a_Real_Writer/pseuds/Not_a_Real_Writer
Summary: They're both trying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so tired  
> I think the story's good enough to share  
> Hope y'all enjoy

   “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry-” his words at first stilted and short came faster and faster until they bled together. Until you couldn't even tell what he was saying.

   Bucky had just been sitting, not even doing anything. Steve had walked in, was about to walk by. And then Bucky’d seen a hand reaching for him. And then he'd dropped to the floor, fallen to his knees. Hands behind his head, facing the ground.

   He doesn't know what he did _wrong_. Only that Steve thought he needed to be punished for-

   For _something_ , but he doesn't know _what_ , and he can't stop shaking and-

   Steve.

   Steve’s kneeling in front of him?

   He's saying something to him, but _God_ , he can't-

   He can't **focus**.

   Steve’s scooting closer slowly.

   He fights back a whimper. If he deserved a punishment earlier(for whatever reason) then he definitely did now. Steve probably thinks he was avoiding the original hit. He's reaching toward him now and Bucky can't look at him. He was safe, he was supposed to mean safety, warmth, _home_.

   He did.

   He does.

   He probably deserved whatever Steve would do.

   He closes his eyes. It will be over soon.

   Slowly, so slowly hands cover his own, lightly clasping his interlocked fingers. They tug softly, suggesting movement. He moves pliantly and releases his hold on himself. They get settled down by his side.

   A soft touch guides his face, until it stares straight ahead. He braces himself for any coming blow.

   Steve’s hands cup his face, thumbs gently tracing the skin under his shut eyes, and his heart races; anticipating the moment when his touch would no longer be so soft, but bring pain.

   Pain.

   He deserved it.

   He'd take it.

   And then he could be good in Steve’s eyes again. They sit like this, Bucky's internal clock telling him for five minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour.

   Body still rigid under Steve’s gentle touch, he opens his eyes. Slowly he looks into his eyes, and finds a steady, unwavering gaze.

   Another moment passes.

   “Bucky, can you hear me?” he murmurs.

   A silent swift nod is his reply.

   “That's good.” he soothes.

   “Do you know where you are?”

   Another nod.

   “Can you please tell me?”

   “Avengers tower. Your floor,”a pause, “2016.” he finally adds.

   “That's right that's real great. Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

   At this request, Bucky's brows furrow in confusion, but he finds himself slowly nodding his permission.

   Tentatively, Steve moves close enough to tenderly, wrap Bucky in his arms. Light enough that he could break free from his grasp if he wanted to.

   He didn't want to.

   After that thought he begins to relax limb by limb.

   He rests his head on Steve’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat, his own beat picking up its pace at having the nerve to-

   To participate in a _hug_?

   It was just a hug.

   Just a hug with _Steve_.

   There would be no punishment.

   He grasps Steve’s shirt suddenly, clinging on, wondering why he thought Steve of all people would hurt him. Why he couldn't stop shaking.

   Steve breaks the silence.

   “I'm-” his voice cracks. He clears his throat. Tries again. “I'm sorry.” he whispers. “I was just- it was a habit, my way of saying hello without saying anything,” he gives a little mirthless laugh, “I don't know why I couldn't just use my words.” he says self-deprecatingly. “I wasn't thinking and I know I need to do better, and actually _think_ , and I promise I w-”

   Bucky squeezes his hold on his shirt tighter. Steve just sighs and starts rubbing his back.

   He's stopped shaking.

   Steve _means_ safe.

   He does mean warmth.

   He does mean home. His touch wasn't meant to inspire hurt and fear, but to remind him that with Steve; if he chose, he would be shielded. He would be protected.

   He was safe.

                   ~○~

   As it turns out Steve’s promise meant no touch at all. Bucky wouldn't have noticed if Steve weren't so obvious, he probably thought he was being subtle too.

   No they didn't usually hug, but when you stand a foot away when you're the only two people in a small hallway...you tend to notice.

   When he moves as if he was going to touch his shoulder but then drops his hand suddenly as if Bucky were made of fire.. you tend to notice.

   Movie night. The only available seat is on the couch Bucky's sitting on. He chooses to sit on the floor. You get the idea.

   Fuck this shit.

   Next movie night was in twenty minutes, and Bucky was gonna be sitting with Steve. Well… he's gonna try to get Steve to sit next to him. Semantics.

   The only Avengers in attendance tonight were Clint,Natasha,Bruce, and of course Steve and himself. He'd purposefully arranged the room so that there was only enough seating for those in attendance. Clint and Nat get the big bean bag chairs, Bruce gets the recliner, and that leaves the loveseat.

   There may or may not have been extra furniture moved hastily into a spare room on the communal floor.

   Bucky claims the couch by lying on top of it, expression leaving no room for argument for when they arrive. Predictably, Nat arrives first, and sinking into the bean bag chair near his feet, smirks at him; as if she knew what he was trying to do.

   She probably does.

   Eyes softening, she pokes his foot and then settles back. Clint walks in minutes later, and without looking at either of them, purposefully falls until he's comfortably nestled himself on the beanbag chairs. I.e his had pillowed on Natashas thighs and lower body sprawled halfway on the remaining beanbag chair, halfway spread on the floor.

   Groaning softly, he mumbles into her lap, and waves in the general direction of Bucky's stomach.

   “What?” he chuckles out.

   Clint shakes his head and lifts himself up into the raised push up position. Turning his head he says, “hhhhuuunnngggfffgggkdjkdhskdhfbfbcjcjff”, and then settles down again.

   Bruce stumbles through the door, and stops. Gives a tired smile and a small wave. Bucky supposes he’ll be napping tonight; he needs more sleep. Tony too. Recliner claimed, Bucky takes initiative and pops in a movie they’ve all already seen. ‘The Princess Bride’ is good anyway.

   Sitting down in his seat, Bucky stares at the doorway. When Steve enters it, he freezes. Seeing Bucky staring at him he tilts his head and waits. Everyone seemed to be in a quiet mood tonight.

   Casually straightening up, he leans over enough to pat the space on the other end. An offer. A request. A question. He leans back. He doesn't miss the surprise that flashes across his face, but he doesn't take long to walk to his allotted part of the couch.

.

.

.

   The movie’s over,and all but Steve and Bucky are in bed.

   “G’night-”, he yawns, “-Buck.” He grins sleepily. “See you in the morning.” Heading to the door, he's stopped by a hand on his elbow.

   “Wait?”

   More surprise fills his face at his touch, and in the span of a few seconds he looks much more awake.

   “Yeah Buck?” He's still under Bucky's hand. He doesn't remove it, Steve doesn't shake it off; and Bucky realizes all he wants is a hug. He sighs. Don't beat around the bush.

   “Look Stevie, is there any reason why you don't want to touch me?” Bucky asks quietly. He waits.

   And Steve stays silent.

   And the moment stretches, and he's starting to look panicked.

   Pushing ahead, no way to go but forward, he says, “Look I see when you're about to touch me.”, he takes his hand back. “I'm okay with-”, cutting himself off, he starts again, “If you won't touch me because you're afraid I'm gonna freak out again; just..please don't. Hell, I'm far from perfect and, yes, I do flinch when some stranger touches me. But.” A pause. “I know you,okay? I trust you and I see you pulling back, and I don't know what to think.” He takes a breath and sighs. Glancing at Steve he sees a stricken look.“If you truly don't want to touch me, and you reaching out is just a habit you haven't broken yet; just tell me please, I won't bring it up anymore,promise.”

   Facing Steve head on and looking him in the eyes for the first time, Bucky prepares to wait for an answer.

   “I-” ,a huff of air, “You…”,he trails off. A look of irritation comes over his face, but Bucky knows it's not directed at him. He lifts a hand, palm up. Steve looks at it, slowly reaches out and takes it. He seems to settle at the contact, and it leaves Bucky vaguely wondering if Steve got enough contact with other people.

   “I don't want to push you.” he says earnestly. “Once I thought of that,well,” he gives a strained chuckle, “somewhere along the way I came up with the backwards idea that I just wouldn't touch you at all to...protect you?” Squeezing his hand, he continues, “I'm so-”

   “Unless the next words out of your mouth are along the lines of “I don't plan to treat you like glass anymore Bucky”, then I don't want to hear it”, stepping closer, he lifts his other hand and closes Steve open mouth. “There's no need to be sorry about anything, alright Stevie.”, he hears his breath hitch, “you were just caring for me.” he soothes.

   “And instead I made you think I didn't want to touch you.” he replies tiredly.

   Bucky fixes him with a look.

   “You said so yourself, you didn't want to push me, and that's real sweet of you, I think.”He smiles, and notices that one hand is being held by Steve, and the other is still resting against his chin. He doesn't remove them. “When it comes to you I don't know if I actually have boundaries,” he huffs a laugh. “Would you be okay if _I_ pushed until we find our stopping point?”

   Steve gives a happy nod that dislodges the hand against his chin. He looks down on it mournfully. Bucky merely grins and places it behind his head.

   “If I ever do somethin you don't want me doin, just say so alright?” Without waiting for a reply, he let's go of Steve’s hand, places it on his shoulder and tugs him down into a hug. Steve melts in his arms and cautiously brings his own arms up to wrap tightly around his waist.

   They stay that way for awhile, but neither care about the passing of time in that moment. When they do break apart, to finally get some sleep; Bucky ruffles Steve’s hair and gently nudges him towards his bedroom.

   When both are in their respective beds, they can't help but feel that something was missing.

   ~○~

The next day they had silently agreed to get up earlier and do something together, just the two of them. They had just been walking to get coffee; it was a cloudy day, everything seemed grey, and they just needed to _move_ before it started raining. They both didn't want to be cooped up inside, not when they had this window of opportunity.

   The new café that Steve had found was called “Badly Blended”, and you'd think that that was an indicator that maybe they should try their luck elsewhere. Nope.

   The two were talking about the menu possibilities, and whether or not the café was rightly named. Saying the name out loud had caused them to burst into a fit of giggles. They were both a little tired.

   And then Steve’s hand was reaching for his. Just like always it stopped. Thinking about their conversation, Bucky didn't hesitate to link their fingers together.

   And then immediately after regretted it. What if Steve _didn't_ want to touch him. _God_ , he knew what he'd said last night, but Steve was a _nice_ guy and could've been lying, could've-

   He squeezed his hand lightly, avoiding eye contact. He gets a squeeze in return, looking up he sees a bright smile. His face relieved and...something else. It was a nice look. Thoughts resolved, Bucky was determined to keep meeting Steve halfway.

   Later, they had ended up running home through the rain, hands linked together, laughter ringing through the air.

   The coffee was pretty decent too, 8/10 would recommend.


End file.
